Officer Workers Gone Wild
by Fried Green Tomatoes
Summary: His name was Jim from IT and his life was completely normal. Except for those days when a stranger pulls him into a broom closet, and... Well, it's rated M for a reason. MorMor. AU? Kink? Role play? All? Is that possible? I don't actually know. Lemon. Despite how it sounds, it's not noncon !


**I wrote this in class.**

**I wrote this in class.**

**I wrote this in class.**

**If the office monitors our internet, I'm fucking dead. But I'll die with MorMor smut on the brain, and that is a good thing.**

**Help, this is taking over my life.**

**So, this is set with Jim from IT—not _Jim Moriarty_—and Sebby. Is this and AU or just a kinky role-play? No clue. That's your decision to make~!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

His name was Jim. Jim from IT. He woke up every morning, pulled a random shirt out of his closet, put on his pants, went to work hoping the cute guy that usually hung around the lab somehow wondered in to IT, went to work, answered phones all day, talked to Molly, heard all about Sherlock, went home, went to sleep, woke up, and did the same thing the next day for every day and the rest of his life.

Most days, that is.

Others, however, more interesting things happened.

Today was one of those days.

Jim was walking down the hallway that was to the shortest route to his car. He was just about to retrieve his car keys from his pocket when a hand shot out from seemingly nowhere and covered his mouth. He let out a yell of surprise as he was pulled into a storage closet and pushed up against the wall. His eyes roved around madly in the pitch darkness, trying to get a look at anything. His breathing was hard—near-hyperventilation. The smell of nicotine and smoke in the air hardly helped calm him, but, instead, made him more worried as he knew this smell. He knew it all too well.

The hand was removed from his mouth and he sucked in a heavy breath. "It's you," he rasped into the darkness.

"Yeah," a deep voice replied. "It's me."

"What are you doing here? I'm—" he was cut off as the hand was put back over his mouth.

"Shut up," the voice commanded. "I'm not in the mood for your ramblings."

Jim squeaked out a protest as his wrists were suddenly pinned above his head with the hand that had been keeping him quiet. "W-Wai—" he was silenced again by the man in the darkness, but this time it was with his lips. They moved roughly against his own, bruising the sensitive skin before sinking teeth into it and sending the metallic taste of blood flowing into both their mouths.

Jim let out a squeak as he was pushed from the wall to the floor. He scrambled around blindly in the darkness, his hands feeling around for something—anything. But, then, two hands grabbed his shoulders, easily overpowering him and pressing his back to the cold ground. Jim bit cut lip as the man straddled him. He could feel the hardness growing between the stranger's thighs, and it made the tightness in his own pants that much worse. He wiggled underneath the heavy form, trying for freedom.

"Be _still_," the darkness growled at him, the hands moving from his shoulders to around his neck. He gasped for air as the stranger strangled him, weakening him to the point of seeing spots in the blackness before his eyes.

"St—o—pp," he choked, and the hands were removed. Jim didn't try to escape; he was too busy trying to get oxygen to his brain. That's when the stranger took his chance. Warm fingers worked his pants down to his knees, and his shirt up to his neck. Hot kisses were laid all over his abdomen, leading down to the growing bulge under his fabric. The torturing lips reached the neon fabric and pressed to it, drawing a badly suppressed groan out of the office worker. He trailed his hands down his naked skin, feeling how amazingly hot his skin had become in the past minute. He felt the lips part and a tongue wet a trail on the already moist fabric. Jim let out a sharp breath, his hands reaching down and tangling fingers in short hair.

The man chuckled, sending vibrations up Jim's body. He arched his back as teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin beneath the thin fabric. Jim's breathing hitched as fingers hooked into the pants and tortuously slowly pulled them down, making sure that the rough fabric rubbed in all the right places.

Jim sucked in a breath as the cold air hit his sensitive member. The coldness soon disappeared, though, when rough hot fingers wrapped around the shaft and began pumping it slowly. Jim let out a pathetic squeak before biting down on his hand to hold back the sounds that were rumbling in the back of his throat. When the tongue circled the tip, though, he couldn't hold back as his back arched and a loud groan all but echoed off the walls. Jim was suddenly glad that no one ever came down this hallway.

Suddenly, the tip of Jim's length was enveloped in moist warmth as the pace of the pumps increased. Jim let out another groan, his hips and legs wiggling as he bit down harder on his hand and found the stranger's hair once again, his fingers digging in to his scalp.

Teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, and Jim let out a shout that they must have been able to hear from the offices. Jim let out a breathy moan as the stranger laughed, vibrations shooting through him. The smaller man rolled his hips slightly, removing his hand from his mouth to claw at the ground, his eyes all but rolling back in his head—intoxicated by _sex._

"Oh—fuck," he gasped out, toes curling in his sneakers. "Wha—I—you're—I'm—unn!" his mouth tried to form words, but his brain was in such a mess that nothing but fragments spilled out. "I'm—I'm—fff!" he arched his back as he came all over his abdomen. The man in the darkness let out a chuckle as Jim panted, shivering and covered in his own mess.

Then the lips were back, rougher this time—more needy. Jim moved his lips sloppily, his tongue sliding sloppily along the roof of the other man's mouth. His hips rocked back and forth against the rough fabric of the stranger's jeans, his limp length—still sensitive from his orgasm—tingled with pleasure. The lips trailed down his jawline, kissing, sucking, and biting.

The man pushed his shirt over his head and threw it across the room, immediately moving down to his chest. His mouth lingered over Jim's nipples—his hot breath making the man squirm. His tongue slipped out of him mouth and brushed over the pink num. Jim arched his back, pushing his chest into his mouth. Lips encircled the nipple, sucking roughly and making the dark-haired man's breath hitch and his cock stiffen. Jim kicked his pants off, leaving him in nothing but his sneakers—pinned underneath a stranger.

He squirmed under the man, his semi-hardness pressing up against the obvious bulge underneath the denim over him. He moved his hands from the stranger's hair and down to his pants, unbuttoning them and frantically pushing them as far as he could reach. The man moved up to Jim's lips, kissing him with crushing force as he pushed his pants the down to his knees—leaving only the thin fabric of underwear between them.

Jim pushed his hand past the elastic, his hands stroking the skin and making a hand fist in his hair—nearly pulling it out at the roots. He let out a chuckle as he circled his hand around it, pumping it slowly. "Like that?" he whispered through the needy kisses.

His only reply was to knock the wind out of Jim's lungs as he flipped him to his stomach. He tried to lift himself up only to feel the pressure of the man's entire weight pressed on him as his lips appeared at his ear.

"Don't try to move," he hissed. "You'll only make his more difficult."

Jim shivered as he heard the rustling of fabric and felt a few drops of cold liquid fall on his bottom. He bit his lip as the man bent down and licked his lip, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin.

"Ready?" he asked, the tip of his member slowly pushing inside.

Jim made a noncommittal grunt before he was fully impaled. He let out a strangled noise as he held back a scream. A hand quickly flew over his mouth, and Jim bit down on the fingers as the man thrust himself into him repeatedly. Jim reached behind him blindly, his fingers scratching skin and digging themselves in. His arm hooked around the man's shoulder as his entire body was shaken by nearly backbreaking thrusts.

"Uh! God! Yes!" Jim yelled, momentarily forgetting about the office full of people only yards away, as Sebastian pounded into his pleasure center. "Fuck! Yes! Unh! I—fff—!" his shouts became less and less intelligent as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge. His free hand scratched at the ground, his mind consumed completely by lust.

A hang fisted into his hair, shoving his face into the ground. He turned his head to the side, his eyes searching into the darkness and looking for any sign of the man's face. He found nothing, but from the grunts that were coming from the darkness, he could imagine the beautiful face he had placed with the voice twisted with pleasure and concentration and—_ooh._

Jim let out a pathetic squeak as he came all over his stomach for the second time. Moments later, the man pulled out and spilled his hot liquid all over his back. They both sat there panting for a moment before a weight was lifted from Jim's back. He lay there, trying to catch his breath, as he listened to the rustling of clothing. There was a tingle as he buckled his belt and a squeak as the door opened. Jim turned his head—all he could manage with the stiffness and soreness of the rest of his body—and looked at the silhouette in the light pouring in the doorway.

"Wait!" he called. The silhouette turned to look at him. "What is your name?"

The man paused before answering. "Sebastian," he said. "Name's Sebastian. But you can call me Seb." Jim could hear the smirk in his voice.

The man on the floor smiled to himself. "Right, then. I guess this means I'll be seeing you again?"

"Of course." And the door shut.


End file.
